Porcelain Tears
by Monsieur Ayer
Summary: Two mysterious twincestuous boys created from dolls and thrown into a world unlike any other. Throw in a whore, a goth, angry angels, a corrupt prince, epic war complete with twisted romance, and you've reached the peak of insanity. It's all Porcelain.


Chapter I**Porcelain Tears**

Isaac stormed down the hallway, his long blue hair tied up into a bun that bounced on the top of his pale head. He scanned the area, watching the security cameras follow him along the metal walls. The doors on either side of him as he walked glowed with eerie greens, blues, and reds. He pulled the white lab coat around him tightly as he made his way down the hall, turning a corner here and there. He was breathing heavily as he whipped out the ID card and pressed it up against the door. There was a loud beep and the upper left side of the gate clicked unlocked. He placed his hand on the finger pad, which allowed the two bottom most areas to release as well. A small panel in the wall opened. Putting his eye up to the scanner, he opened his eyes wide and let it view his retina. A cheery female voice announced his access was granted. The doors slid open to allow him through. Another metal gate crossed his path; he placed his hand on it for a further scan. Finally he was permitted to enter the room before him.

The tank facing him was shimmering softly. Isaac gazed at the radiant face within the experimental casing. The boy in front of him seemed so out of place, his perfectly shaped face made almost as if from porcelain, a slight glow in his cheeks. His eyelids were so thin that one could almost see the pale grey irises beneath them, glazed over with sleep. Isaac pressed his hand up against the boy's chamber, tracing the form of his slight feminine figure.

"What happened to you…?" the young British boy asked, pulling out the bun from his hair, and letting it fall down again. He tied it back into a pony tail which he tucked into his lab coat haphazardly. He sighed, turning away from the glowing boy and back towards the panels on the wall. He examined the files that his master had left open until he found what he was looking for. The files were all on the boy in the chamber, each file a video out from his eyes. The files had been transferred to the computer, allowing this boy to be away from his body without being terminated.

"Program 4XY932b, do you read me?" Isaac asked; his accent terribly bitter. There was a long pause in which Isaac remained silently paranoid.

"I do," the program responded in a mechanical and monotonous voice. The blue haired boy sighed with relief. At least the program hadn't self-terminated, like he thought it might have.

"What is your status?" he asked darkly. The program seemed distant and unconcerned with Isaac's demands. The temptation to scream at the computer was overridden by the knowledge that the artificial intelligence would not take it well.

"Status? Oh-that. Memory banks stored. Preparing to erase from hard drive," it finally said sourly. Isaac looked almost disturbed.

"Erased?! Cancel!" he shouted. The machine was silent again, as if it were taking time to contemplate his words.

"Password?" The computer sounded even more bored than before.

"Password!" exclaimed the young man. "Since when were your memories locked with-"

"I apologize, but at your current user level, I cannot disclose that information to you. Please try again at another time." Panic crossed Isaac's mind briefly. Pressing every key he could think of he attempted to find a way out of this fate. "How much time do I have?" he asked the program fearfully. The program seemed to almost laugh, but it was so metallic, so inhuman, that Isaac found himself sick upon hearing it.

"Displaying progress bar. Preparation at 92%. Make that 93%." Isaac stared at the screen as a small green and grey bar appeared before him, marking the percentages that the program announced. Glancing around for a free disk, Isaac ran to the other side of the room before shouting back at the computer.

"Estimated time?" The computer sighed this time.

"Two minutes," it said mechanically. Isaac cursed under his breath as he tried to find where his superior kept the disks…it didn't take too long.

"96%" the program declared drearily. Isaac slid the disk into the system.

"Copy the hard drive onto the disk, can you do that before the memory banks are disposed of?" The processor was oddly silent. "My user level must be high enough for that!" Isaac protested.

"97%"

"Oh come on!"

"Copying hard drive into slot C6. Retrieving files…Preparation currently at 98%"

"I can read the god damn screen!" Isaac spat grimly. If he managed this, he swore he'd never ask anything so tasking of the computer again…not that he'd ever need to.

"99%" Isaac noticed the process had slowed while the computer copied the files, he'd have to thank the program for that later. "Hard drive successfully copied according to your user level; Program 4XY932b accordingly. Happy now?" Isaac grinned in his relief, pulling the disk out of the machine with glee. "Preparation at 100% Beginning File Deletion. Processing…please wait…File: Memory Banks erased. Establishing system shut down."

Isaac looked alarmed. "Wait, don't shut down, you might terminate…Program 4XY932b! Program 4XY-god damn it, Soulo!"

"Shutting down." The screen in front of Isaac blurred before sparking and turning black. The room lit up a bit more, now that the energy was not all spent on the computer, and the peculiar blue hue of the lights seemed almost pleasant, had it not been for the fuming boy standing at its center, staring at an unoccupied screen. Pocketing the disk, Isaac exited the room.

The black haired gentleman glanced over the papers silently, sipping on a wine glass which he held in the palm one hand, attempting to balance the glass without staining anything. He heard the scream before he saw the enraged blue eyes staring down at him from the other side of the desk. His crimson shadows glanced over his employee with curiosity. Whatever could have made the young man so utterly disgruntled, it was beyond him. Then again, with the termination of that creation, ah, that must have been it.

"Isaac," the crimson eyed man said, his voice alluring and heavy. Isaac calmed upon hearing it, his pink cheeks fading to their soft complexion, but not as pale as his master's. No, this man was white, flawless, never bruised or affected by the world or the air. He wasn't breathing, he didn't have to, all he had to do was slowly sip on that glass…and that wasn't wine.

"Azure," Isaac retaliated, breaking the trance with another strong willed glare. The corners of Azure's grey lips were turned upward in almost mockery. "You terminated the program."

"What?" the vampire asked, looking back at his paperwork, stifling a laugh. Isaac remained on edge.

"You know what I'm talking about! Soulo! He's been terminated!" Azure glanced upward again, his voice growing slowly calmer with his progressively smug grin,

"The program _self_-terminated, I did not stop it because I had no need to do so," Azure placed his papers down, lacing his fingers together to stare at the blue haired boy. Isaac was so predictable, first he would pause, his eyes blank and confused, before he would begin to open and close his mouth repeatedly, struggling to find the proper words to fit the situation. When he failed to do so, he would grow very irritated and begin to pace. After a few moments, Isaac was, as usual, walking up and down the length in front of Azure's desk. This gave Azure another reason to be pleased with himself, because had he not known what Isaac was about to do, he would not know what to say next, and Azure prided himself on his intellect and knowledge.

"Besides," he continued, catching the attention of Isaac, who turned to glower at him, "Had the program not terminated it would be taking up unnecessary data space, which would become merely a nuisance. We need as much room as possible on the main computer anyhow. Certainly, _you_ would understand, correct, Isaac?" The grimace that his words brought Isaac gave Azure a strong sense of power. This was what he deserved for going against his master, his ruler, his only relative left in this forsaken universe. Well, not really relative, they were more like slave and master than savior and saved, after all, Azure had taken him out of the swamps with no memory of his family or where he came from and rebuilt his life. Isaac owed everything he had to this man, and Azure was very aware of it. He enjoyed using it to his advantage; after all, it wasn't as if Isaac could simply blow him off, someone as important as Azure.

Perhaps, Isaac proposed to himself, when he was once again alone, placing one foot in front of the other and listening to the doors slide shut behind him, perhaps this was how it was meant to be. The echoes of his footsteps perturbed him as he made his way through the metallic hall. Everything he knew was to be questioned here, in fact, it already had. There was no way out; his arrival here had sealed his pathetic fate.

But not Soulo's. If he could get the disk out, if he could somehow leave his body, he could get to the outside. If he could only slip on a cloak and pass the guard unseen, he would be able to return life to the inanimate body that floated in its chamber, disturbing Isaac's subconscious to a point of insanity. If Azure had captured Soulo's attention, and had managed to tear down his will, then what was left for the rest of this world; this universe that was so quick to succumb to anything and anyone who instilled fear? Unfortunately, Isaac recalled with disdain, there were just as many passwords and requirements to leave the laboratory as there were to enter. Nothing that got in left; that was Azure's way. The thought of Azure made the blue haired boy shudder unwillingly. There was something about that man's cold stare that drove everything around him to obey, and that brilliantly fearsome presence brought about a whole new meaning to insanity. He sought perfection in the lives he created. And he created life by taking it, sustaining it, and then demolishing it once and for all. There was a process that only Azure himself fully understood, though he had tried to pass it on to Isaac. Azure had found that the only way to truly create life and keep it was imperfect, which seemed to be a constant reminder of his own faults. And while he knew that whatever he created would not be precisely what he wanted, he needed something to pass on his knowledge to, something that would understand.

That was, of course, before Azure had become immortal. This was where Isaac was most troubled; a man could give up his own humanity to gain eternal life, but when faced with the question of happiness, could not give a single reason to be contented. Azure was certainly not miserable, but he was far from satisfied with his life, so much that he felt no pain in taking the lives of others to sustain his own, and drinking that which was most precious to them: their blood. But then, Isaac was led to wonder what would become of the man if he ever attained this perfection after which he sought so fervently. What would the man do with the rest of his infinity, certainly he wouldn't be alone forever, but everything around him would die, and yet he would not. Times would change around him, he would see everything, grow wise, but never age, and while he would forever live on, he would never be able to fully understand his own actions. This was the compromise, and Isaac questioned its worth. But then again, who was he to judge, he had not been the one to create a living being, he could not program into someone a personality, an A.I. suiting of a human frame. In fact, Isaac was far from that level of intelligence, and he was well aware that the man to whom he owed his life was far above him intellectually.

Of course, Isaac was nervous for his own death, which, he noted dreadfully, loomed closer with every drawn out breath. At times, even Isaac himself wished to learn the ecstasy of being breathless; it would certainly spare him the clamminess of the air in these halls. His fingers squeaked as he dragged them across the metal wall beside him, his eyes full of remorse. This was no way to live his life, he decided morbidly, stopping in his tracks and pulling the disk from his pocket. He glanced over it briefly, he would have to return this to its body, but there it would only grow tired and become useless, just a heap of synthetic flesh with no drive to live on. Every breath he took made Isaac grow more and more bitter. Azure was a fool in a genius's flesh. Perhaps he knew what he was doing, but to so simply disregard lives, to act upon his own needs as if everyone else meant nothing was sickening. Perhaps Soulo Grey had never really been truly alive, but he had certainly seemed it, and to everyone else he had been an extraordinarily important boy.

His hand hit an additional scanner accidentally, forcing the door to open with another announcement of access. Isaac found himself startled, he had not been aware there was a door here. He blinked, and stepped inside, the doors closing behind him with a soft hiss of steam. The room within was terribly warm, his blue eyes wavered slightly adjusting themselves. He stepped further into the blazing heat, trying to see into the darkness. The room was faintly lit by deep crimson spheres that floated about knee level. Isaac stared at them in awe. These sprites were the likes of which he had never before seen. Colored only in red, they each seemed heavy, unable to support themselves they hovered near the floor. He reached out to touch one, but to his surprise it inched away. Again he reached for one, but again it left his grasp. For the third time he tried, holding tightly to one and pulling it up to his face, but it would not share its information with him. He threw it aside, looking for the computer he was sure would be here.

He found it quickly enough, having pressed his hand along the wall until he found the keyboard. His fingers traced the keys, pushing down and accessing the files with ease. To his surprise Azure had not locked the files, in fact he hadn't even closed them in the cautious way he usually did. Isaac glanced over the documents across the screen.

Something tapped at his foot and Isaac fell backwards. He searched for something to grab onto, but only managed to find a few scraps of paper that came down with him. Cursing under his breath, Isaac glared at the sprite that had touched him. He stood, rearranging the papers in the light from the computer and the red glow of the sprites, when something caught his eye.

I worry that if this should continue we may lose all sense of the creatures. We must remember that these beings were once human, and will continue to seek to be treated as such. However, if we are to continue treating them with humane tactics, we will surely be rebelled against. What I propose, is that we might destroy their humanity, in doing so we may be able to place within them the essence of another being. You, however, have lost all trust which I have bestowed upon you, and I fear that it may already be too late. I demand that you return to me my brother. I care not for how you do this, dead or alive. Your ignorance and blatant disregard for my authority has tried my patience one too many times, Azure. I trust then, that I shall see you in person once again, lest I need seek you out, which I'm sure will not be the case.

I feel at this point it may be best, according to my brother's, Blue's insistence upon rebellion, that it may be best to remove him from his current position. If you send the Void your gems, I will keep them hidden from public view. All I need is his power, for it is the one thing that cannot fall into enemy hands.

However, if the Bloody Angels find you first, have no doubt that if you are to succumb, I will personally see to your demise.

Best Wishes,

Lady Beauty

"Lady Beauty…" the blue haired boy breathed, seizing the papers and stuffing them away in his coat pockets. She had found him, she wanted him back. Isaac knew the consequences of his actions; he would be taken out of commission. He had to get the disk out before he was finished.

Communication. Program 4XY932a was still out there, he was still well and alive. Certainly he will have noticed the absence of his twin's presence. The two were created to be entwined, in a way that only they could understand fully.

Isaac stumbled out of the room, pressing hard against the wall until it allowed him back into the morose hallway. His breaths were heavy, everything rested right now on his ability to contact the brother. If he could somehow get Soulo's body to see him, to see the disk, to see where he put it, if he could leave him some kind of hint, Soulo's twin might be able to decode it, and obtain the disk.

If he could do that, then they could revive Isaac.

Lady Beauty and Leo Lord would both finally fall.

The war could finally end.

Isaac would have the final word. He smiled, approaching the tank, his mouth opening as he held out the disk only to utter a few words.

"Hey…Solimn…Memory-"

~.~.~

"-Lies in the darker grave," Solimn repeated, his black eyes flickering. He pulled back his raven hair, its ends twitching in the soft breeze. He hadn't cut it in a while, and it was reaching just past his shoulders now. The white pupils of his eyes were scanning the dimly lit city, the only colors a faded crimson and eerie black surrounded by dusty dark browns. Lava was the power source in Black's land, therefore all light was tinged red. Everything here made perfect sense, in a way that nothing else in this universe did. He leaned back, pressing his hands into the wall behind him, his lips pursed as if something was on the tip of his tongue. There was no one here in this place to say it to, no one but the windless air, that stank of sulfur and corpses. Solimn questioned his need to breathe. He wouldn't die if he stopped, in fact, very little would happen at all. Even so, it would be very uncomfortable; one got used to breathing, and it was a difficult habit to break.

Feeling a hand on his arm, he whipped around, to face a little boy that had been prying into his bag. He kicked him off, swiping around to grab the child by the neck. The boy began to scream. There were three boys behind him, who just stared in awe. They had picked the wrong target. Solimn dropped the boy, leaving a black scorch mark on the boy's throat. The boy had passed out, so Solimn stooped down and picked the necklace out of the boy's hands. He looked at the other children, whose eyes shined with tears in fear. He stared at them for a long moment before standing up fully and smiling broadly.

"You shouldn't steal from people, okay?" he announced in a cheerful voice. The children screamed and ran, leaving their other friend behind. Solimn placed a finger to his lips, confused by their reaction. He stared down at the unconscious boy. "Hey," he muttered, picking up a stick that one of the other boys had dropped and poking at him with it. Placing the stick down beside the boy, he inspected the blackened hand mark on the neck. Finally he gave up, standing and walking back to the palace.

Every time he went anywhere he'd noticed how people looked at him. No one around here dressed in anything but black, and he was no exception. His hair was black, and his eyes may have been odd, but so were the eyes of many of the creatures here. So why then must they look at him in such an ostracizing manner? Sometimes it hurt his feelings, he always had thought he was a kind boy, the type of person people would like to have around… It was their loss; having such an ally as him could do a lot of damage on their enemies.

The stale air was making him feel sick again; he didn't like sulfur, it smelled so sour. Solimn tripped over a stick and fell into a run. As his feet slowed he looked back to see a man stoop over and lift up the stick. The man wore all white, and had incredible blond hair, the likes of which Solimn had never seen in the void, not in Black's land, in these ash covered plateaus.

The man looked up at him eerily, curiosity shining in his young eyes. Clearly he did not belong here, especially as clean cut as he was. The youth grinned at Solimn, catching him off guard as he stumbled closer.

"Excuse me," the light boy began in the most soothing voice, bowing deeply and humbly before looking upon Solimn once again. "It seems that I've lost my way, I'm looking to get back to the Midlands, do you think you could show me the way, sir?" Solimn blinked several times.

"I'm not allowed out of Papa's land," he responded slowly, allowing his eyes to travel along the alluring boy's figure. "I can take you to the gates though," he added quickly, noticing the youth's disappointed expression. The blond boy grinned broadly.

"Thank you so kindly sir, I'm sorry to be a trouble to you." Solimn shook his head.

"No trouble," he nearly giggled. The blond seemed to shiver at this, a shiver that led Solimn to cringe unwillingly. Shaking this off, he pointed towards himself. "My name is Solimn," he announced. The blond boy smiled again, extending his hand.

"Cross." Solimn jumped back, watching the boy's hand with curiosity. Had he not heard of Solimn? Was he not aware of the pain that touching the man could be? Or was he simply unafraid? Solimn turned his back and began to walk again, in the direction he had originally been asked to head.

"Follow," he commanded, feeling slightly underestimated. Cross looked disgruntled by Solimn's lack of respect, but he continued to trail him through the dark lands. Each stepped in silence, Solimn's muscles far more tense than the seemingly unfazed boy behind him. Something was wrong with the boy behind him. Seemingly, Cross had no aura, which should have been impossible, which meant Cross was hiding it. However, Cross simply glanced around Black's land, surrounded by an air of bliss. Solimn spun around, placing his feet behind him as he walked facing the boy. Smiling at him, Cross cocked his head curiously.

"You're not from around here, are you, mister?" Solimn asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm from far away," he agreed, his voice ever calm. Solimn kept trying to sense his aura, but he had it concealed, the only reason for which he could think would be if Cross were his enemy.

"You're going to the Midlands to go home?" Cross nodded. "Heaven?" he asked, his eyes growing darker. Cross threw back his head in laughter.

"You're smart, Solimn, I admire that. We could be good friends." Solimn couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"I'm not sure that Papa would like that very much, he doesn't like me doing things with angels." Cross began laughing again.

"He thinks we're too dangerous?" he asked mockingly.

"No, he thinks you're foolish-minded wretched filthy maggot-like roaches who'd rather kill a thousand men than break a nail," Solimn explained. This seemed to quell Cross' laughter, which confused Solimn, his Papa had always laughed when he'd said it.

"Oh…Is that so," he said finally. "Who, may I ask, is your Papa?"

"Papa? Black!" Solimn announced, nodding eagerly. Cross looked a bit shocked.

"Black has a son?" he muttered to himself, but Solimn assumed he had directed the question at him.

"Two, actually, me and my brother. But brother's gone, and daddy says he doesn't know if he'll be coming back. Daddy says brother's not really his responsibility though, but his wife is heartbroken."

"Black would say that…"

"No, Daddy did," Solimn corrected. "Papa liked my brother a lot more than Daddy did, but I don't think he cares that much either."

"I thought Black was your Daddy..."

"No," Solimn said with an irritated pout, "Black is Papa!"

"Then who's Daddy?" Cross insisted, frustration in his soft voice.

"White is Daddy!" cheered the raven haired boy. Cross merely looked confused.

"Then how'd you show up? They're both men!"

"I'm their son…" Solimn said, as if it were the most obvious thing ever.

"But that's impossible!" Cross shouted.

"No it's not."

"Two men cannot have a child."

"Well then how am I here?"

"But you," Cross began, before realizing it was hopeless and just shutting his mouth. He sighed finally in defeat. "So, what exactly are you?" he asked.

"Sol-imn," he pronounced slowly.

"I'm not dense," Cross snapped, "I mean like where do you lie here, with two important fathers like that…what does that make you?"

"Oh! I'm Dark Grey!"

"Was your brother Light Grey?" Cross asked, watching Solimn's face carefully.

"How did you know?" the black eyed boy gasped, causing Cross to smile bitterly.

"Lucky guess. Grey huh? I wasn't aware there was a Grey color."

"You're weird…Who are you angel boy?" Solimn asked, blinking twice before smiling sweetly. Cross chuckled.

"I'm Cross Lord," he said softly. Solimn wasn't sure where he'd heard the name before. "I'm the Prince of Heaven."

"I thought Heaven had a princess; I've never heard of you," Solimn shouted boldly. Cross began laughing again, his sweet and melodious laughter ringing through the barren land.

"No one has, yet."

They walked in silence for a while longer, Solimn turning back around to face the way in which he strode. The footsteps in the dirt behind him made him uneasy. Cross Lord, he was certain he had heard it before, but it hadn't seemed threatening until now. But as his eyes landed on Cross again, he saw almost a spark in Cross' heart; a loathing for this world, something almost as strong as what Solimn himself felt. Utter darkness concealed by a beautiful and kind frame. Perhaps there was more to Cross than Solimn had first assessed.

The Midlands were a barren, a mixture of the extremes of each climate within the Void. Each of the different lands, Pink, Green, Gold, Red, Silver, Black, White, and Grey connected to the midlands in one way or another, the same way they connected to the Centrefold. The Centrefold, as its name depicted, was the small area in the dead middle of the Void in which things began, lived, and ended, and from which everything stemmed from. There, in a palace, at the exact point of the Centrefold's strongest power, sat at throne. Upon it, resided the infamous and ominous Lady Beauty, the very core of the Void. She was able to play with the fold, using it for her protection, and in her ability to create, she had devised the Void from nothing. She, however, could only pull the strings on the Centrefold from her throne; her brother was the real puppeteer, a master of the art. The universe and all within it bowed to him, a dark impediment, as clear as it was unseen: Blue.

"We're in the Midlands now," announced the troubled Grey boy, stopping to allow the angel to cross in front of him. The prince grinned, turning fully away from Solimn and extending his hand forward.

"I should return home then," he proposed, his hair pushed back by a soft breeze that rarely graced the land. Cringing slightly, Solimn placed a gloved hand on the back of the angel, applying just enough pressure to hint the boy wanted him gone, without shoving him. Almost as soon as Solimn had brushed against his back, Cross had extended his wings and was in flight, a single feather landing to balance on Solimn's wrist, soon blown away by the wind. Cross was gone, and Solimn felt no more comfortable than before.

He made his way back through Black's land cautiously, and inched his way through the streets, watching as a young man carried a corpse through the streets, the body's mouth hung open, ajar, a bit like a puppet who lost its strings. There was no one else out, it was a ghost city, but that overbearing smell of sulfur still plagued the air, and the rotting of the dead made Solimn hold his breath as he continued. This was becoming a nuisance. Perhaps it was time he found his brother, set out in search of the lost boy. But why go alone? On the horizon Solimn made out a harsh figure of a desert, far in the distance. He grinned, it may have been time to pay the "reader" a visit.


End file.
